Out In the Cold
by MoriasDepths
Summary: What was going through Sirius's mind as he watched the Quidditch match in Prisoner of Azkaban?


Anything you recognize from the books is not mine.

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_James hurtled across the Quidditch pitch, rolling suddenly to dodge a Bludger that appeared unexpectedly out of the sheets of rain that clouded the field. Recovering almost instantly, he whipped around in a quick loop to ensure that the iron ball wouldn't follow him, then vanished back into the downpour, the shout of triumph he had surely uttered lost in the howling of the wind. _

Sirius could remember dimly that he had felt cold earlier, but that seemed years before. A numbness enveloped him, making even thinking difficult. A distant part of his brain registered that he needed to get someplace warm and shake his coat out, but he felt no real desire to obey. It was too easy to just sit there and watch.

_His eyes drifted to the point in the stands where Remus and Peter always sat. Usually, he would have been with them, but Remus was angry with him today. And that meant that he'd had to choose a seat where Remus wouldn't see him watching the game. Why, Sirius couldn't remember, but he had a vague feeling that he had been blamed for something he hadn't done. It was too much trouble to call to mind, though, so he left it._

Somewhere in the haze that shrouded his brain, a dim feeling of wrongness intruded. The thought of his friends wasn't bringing the warm feelings that it usually did. Instead, a flicker of anger was trying to ignite. Anger at Remus for not believing him; anger at Peter for causing the trouble Sirius had been blamed for.

_The rain shrouded the flying figures, so that it was nearly impossible to tell who was who. Sirius vaguely eyed a brief skirmish near the goal hoops, trying to pick his best friend out. It took a long moment, then he spotted James circling high above, not even watching as the Hufflepuff Keeper managed to wrest the Quaffle away from the Griffindor Chaser and toss it to one of his own teammates._

The icy feeling of wrongness touched Sirius again. James was never far from the action. There wasn't even the explanation of being lost, because he had quite clearly seen James look over at the scuffle for a second before continuing to scan the field. A thought was tickling the back of Sirius's mind, but it was refusing to drift into his consciousness. He shrugged inwardly and let it go for the moment.

_A shrill whistle rose briefly over the wind, only to be drowned out a second later by a crack of thunder. As one, the quidditch players shot towards the ground and ran for what little shelter there was. Then a girl sprinted from the stands and ran for the umbrella the Griffindor team was huddled under. Pulling out her wand, she tapped James' glasses and handed them back to him, then ran back to her seat. Except that James preferred goggles when on the quidditch field. Less likely to break._

A particularly hard gust of wind struck Sirius, but he hardly noticed. Two worlds were warring for domination in his mind. He shook his head, and the motion helped to evaporate some of the numbness that had entrapped him. He felt cold again; but he was awake and he could think. He looked out at the field once more, and spotted the figure of his best friend. But it wasn't James after all.

_Harry was back in the air along with his teammates. The girl must have improved his vision with the spell on his glasses, because he was dodging midair obstacles with an adeptness that had been somewhat lacking before. Sirius chuckled through a shiver. The boy was James' son all right, though Sirius had to admit that it looked as though Harry might well be the better flyer of the two. And then, in a flash of lightning, Harry turned and looked directly at him._

Sirius sprang to his feet as Harry momentarily lost control of his broom, but the boy had regained it seconds later. Something was still wrong, though, because the icy feeling in the pit of his stomach refused to go away. In fact, it was increasing rapidly. Dementors! Sirius turned and ran for the nearest exit, praying that they hadn't noticed him yet. From the shelter of the trees at the edge of the forest, he turned to see if he could get one final glimpse of the game. No such luck; the rain was so hard that he couldn't even make out the stands. An roar came from their general direction, but it was impossible to make out anything more definite over the screaming of the wind. Sirius turned and trotted into the Forbidden Forest, seeking the shelter of a small cave he had found a few weeks before.

_Back in the Quidditch pitch, a small, red-clad figure slipped sideways off of his broom and fell towards the dementors gathered below, oblivious to the screams and shouts of those in the stands. In a display of speed and agility remarkable in an old man, Professor Dumbledore ran from his seat out onto the pitch and managed to break Harry's fall before the ground broke the boy's unconscious body. But Sirius wasn't there to see it._


End file.
